Ricochet
by darkangel-silvermoon
Summary: It doesn't take much for him to have a flashback. Just a drabble...can be read as friendship or pre-slash. R/R/E?
1. Chapter 1

**It's been over three months without fic…and I miss you guys.**

**This isn't much…but I kinda feel rusty and I want to get back into writing.**

**So reid, review and enjoy if you would please?**

**Oh…I own nothing.**

It doesn't take much for him to have a flashback…

The buzzing of a bulb about to go.

The sight of viscera; sometimes he forgoes the meat department in the grocer all together if he can help it…if it's one of his bad days.

The simple act of taking an aspirin; drugs in any form just don't seem so innocent anymore.

It's been over three years…but it's still with him…hanging around his neck like a noose ready to tighten.

When he's alone in bed, the darkness surrounding him; ready to press its full weight along the length of him—binding him—giving him no chance to move or breathe…

Yeah, it doesn't take much.

And sometimes it keeps him up for days; purple-bruise smeared under his eyes.

His mind bounces off the wall; each thought and memory pinging back in the most horrible of feedbacks.

And his hands shake as he picks up his coffee mug, and he has to put it down before it sloshes everywhere

Those are the days he wants to grind his teeth to the quick. He wants to press the crescent of his nails until there are four stinging cuts in each of his palms. He wants to scream until his voice is gone, and still just scream some more. He wants to curl into a ball and slip into the warm embrace of sleep…not the helpful kind, but the one that steals your breath away and never gives it back. The one that makes you forget.

And Morgan knows.

Morgan can see it the way he fidgets in his seat on the plane ride home.

Morgan can see it when Reid doesn't have anything to add to a conversation; eyes glazed over— nothing but a vessel.

He knows when Reid flinches against his touch— a hand on the shoulder, a squeeze of the arm. And still he tries anyway.

He knows that sometimes…even if Reid doesn't ask for it; he knows that a hug won't make anything better…but sometimes that and a smile is something that can help make things…a little easier.

It doesn't take much for Reid to have a flashback…but he knows that if he's having trouble— Morgan doesn't mind just being there.

And right now, that's all Reid can ask for.

**A/N: Looking forward to the new season…kinda.**

**But most def. missing the boys. Hope to see more of you guys in the next coming months.**

**:D**

**Da-Sm**


	2. Chapter 2

**I own nothing…**

**Uh…I have no excuse for posting this…'cept that I'm bored a hell. And I my hands and mind are like 'hey, you remember this… writing…it used to be fun, yeah?'**

**so…yeah…**

**Reid/Enjoy?**

Reid's nails dig fine, red crescents in the lines of his palms. He pulls the collar of his coat higher around his neck; goes to tighten his purple scarf.

His head swims with the sight of dead young men— thin ribbons of red around their neck; the efficient cut of a killer.

Serials.

That's what they were…clouded eyes staring up at him; begging him to help them.

And in the moment— he felt like he'd failed them. Mind a clusterfuck of emotion and irrationality threatening to pull him under.

They found the killer as he put his last victim to rest.

_If they'd been a little faster…_

_If he'd been faster making connections and just… the kid would have been alive._

_He could have saved him._

Reid spirals a little deeper into the darkness.

He takes his time walking in Highland Park— trying to clear the buzz in the back of his head; crowding his mind, making his stomach churn.

All he wants is peace and silence.

His breathe puffs out behind him— feet scuffing, stirring up leaves.

*This was a bad idea*, he thinks as the soggy, moldy leaves waft this scent that kicks him in the fucking chest and he's on his knees in an instant— nails biting the ground as he grips saddened grass and leaves alike.

HE CAN'T BREATHE!

Gasps of air forced out of him, catching his chest as his heart squeezes so painfully tight.

He can't breathe and he's alone… the park deathly still as leaves shutter as a cold breeze passes through; jumping wizened branches like suicide jumpers, they fall to their death.

He squeezes his eyes shut- trying to block out the world. It's too much...too fast... why won't everything stop for just a damn second?

Blood rushes through his veins- pounding against his temples.

He whimpers as he remembers the smell…the pain, _oh god the pain._

He feels a warm hand on his neck and he cries out.

Feels someone pull him up by the arm— he struggles.

He doesn't expect the gentleness as they press their hand to the back of his head— stroking his hair.

He doesn't expect the comforting words that wrap themselves around him like a receiving blanket.

He doesn't expect to strain to listen for the steady heartbeat against his ear.

He doesn't expect the familiarity of this smell…masculine, woody, sweat, and something… to drown him. To wipe Tobias, Raphael, Hankel from his mind, just for a little while.

Doesn't expect Morgan to take the time to _find him_ in a deserted park and just…hold him.

Reid's body shivers with sobs that spring free. Morgan rocks him, pressing his body close.

Eventually Reid's body goes limp; Morgan presses his lips to Reid's sweaty brow.

The leaves swirl around them as they stand.

**A/N: Thank you for your time.**


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